Butterflies and Hurricanes
by Randomnormality
Summary: If you were to ask about the curious young woman, Arianna Ravyn, the people of Tatooine would tell you many good things. If you were to ask Arianna about herself, she would tell you all of those things are lies; except for being a family friend of the Skywalker family. Arianna's greatest secrets, even those she can't remember, are worse than she first believed.
1. Feeling Good

_**Butterflies and Hurricanes**_

**Summary:**

If you were to inquire information on the curious young woman, Arianna Ravyn, people would tell you everything they know:

She's a young, seventeen-year-old woman (as most come-to-age by the age of fifteen) _free_ merchant dealer.

She's vibrant, bright-eyed and full of life; always grinning and teasing where she sees fit.

She's a personal friend of the Skywalker Family; often keeping a protective eye out for trouble that usually follows the young Anakin Skywalker.

_She_ would tell you that all of these are lies.

Except for being a friend to the Skywalker's.

Her greatest secrets, even the ones she can't remember, are worse than she first believed. Her lost past becomes unraveled as she gets pulled into saving the peaceful planet of Naboo.

**Author's Note:**

This story contains an OC's; Arianna Ravyn (pronounced Ar-ee-ah-nah Rah-vin), Kai-Lyn Nyx, and Slaine Orino. Story title is taken from Muse's 'Butterflies and Hurricanes', a favorite band and song of mine. All of the chapters will be titled by a song that fits the chapter well. This will probably build into an Obi-Wan/OC (Arianna) story.

* * *

**Chapter One**  
_Feeling Good_

_'Stars when you shine_  
_You know how I feel_  
_Scent of the pine_  
_You know how I feel_  
_Yeah, freedom is mine_  
_And you know how I feel_

_It's a new dawn_  
_It's a new day_  
_It's a new life_  
_For me_  
_And I'm feeling good'_

* * *

The warm, dry winds drifting through busy marketplace of Mos Espa caused many of the various patrons to keep the hoods of their desert cloaks draped over their bowed heads as they move through the several stalls and shops decorating the sides of the sand-blasted streets. Dialects from several planet systems, most harboring the morally corrupt as they come, can be heard in the air, mixing with the stale, sandy air as shoppers and merchants debated and bartered over prices and various other trades.

All of this goes relatively ignored by the single figure, a dark-grey silhouette blending in among the crowd of tan and browns as it makes its way through the bustling marketplace. The cloaked and hooded figure steps up to a food stall, shielded eyes glancing over the variety of produce and salt-preserved meats on display.

"Ah, Miss Ravyn, a pleasure to see you again my dear," the shopkeeper greets the hooded figure; most of the residents and slave-workers in Mos Espa recognizing the only person bold and crazy enough to wear such a bold color cloak among the familiar tans and browns of most residents. "How was your trip?"

"Well, seeing as though I came back in one piece, you can be rest assured that it went relatively well," the cheeky, feminine voice replies, and despite not being able to see it, the shopkeeper can practically _hear_ the smirk in the woman's response. "Although, it wasn't like I was transferring anything worth stealing this time."

"Good to hear, my dear. What can I get for you today?"

The cloaked woman hums thoughtfully, her gloved hand reaching up to scratch at the side of her neck with a single, bare finger, "Hm...can I get you to get me two of your month-long rationed packages?"

"I can. If you're interested, I can toss in a third package for half its original price."

The woman drops her hand from the side of her neck, once again the smirk audible in her words as she replies, "Toss in a fourth package, and I'll give you two-thirds of the original price for one."

"You got yourself a deal."

The cloaked woman lets a soft, airy laugh as she shakes the man's hand. Exchanging the correct amount of Tatooine credits for the food rations, the two give their farewells before the cloaked woman slips back into the crowd. It doesn't take her long to arrive to her destination; the sand-blasted dome-shaped house unit greeting her like a home away from home.

Placing her palm on the scanner along the side of the door, she sighs with relief as the door gives way and allows her entrance. As the door slides shut behind her, she makes to pull down her hood, running fingers through the black fringed bangs. Coming to her custom made piloting goggles; the lenses blackened to protect her eyes from sunlight, she pulls them away from her face and settles them along the crown of her head. Silver-tinted violet eyes peers around the dimly lit interior. None of the lights were on, seeing as though the Twin Suns were at High Noon. Despite the dim lighting in the house, she inhaled deeply at the scent of home and warm reception.

"Ari? Is that you, child?"

Silver-violet eyes roll comically at being considered a child before the young woman carries the rations further into the house, heading into the kitchen unit, "Hiya, Shmi!" She greets as she carefully places the food rations on the counter, her eyes quickly sweeping over the brown-haired matron of the house. Seeing the woman looking no worse than usual, only signs of weariness in her eyes, the ebony-haired woman grins broadly, "You look like you are doing well."

Shmi's soft hazel eyes brighten as they land on the wayward child she had come across a couple years ago, "I'm doing just fine, Ari. You know it isn't necessary to buy rations every time you come back."

The girl shrugs nonchalantly, "Meh, I figured I had the necessary monetary exchange for it. Besides, whether you believe it or not, I owe you my life."

Shmi places a mug of Caf down in front of her, taking her own glass of water, and smiles. Looking over the dark-haired youth, Shmi remembers that fateful day, so many years ago. She had been sent out by her previous Master to the moisture farms when a fighter vessel crash landed beyond one of the dunes wrapping around the farm. Out of pure instinct, Shmi had raced toward the top of the dune, shouts from the farm workers echoing in the air as men and other slave workers follow her lead. The carnage of scrap metal and smoking engine parts littered the ground. The watchers, wide-eyed, began to lose hope of anyone surviving the crash when something shifted a slab of sheet metal. Shmi remembers vividly as she watched a blood-coated hand appear from under the metal, fingers digging into the hot sand for purchase as the lean, muscled arm tensed, pulling at the ground for leverage. Shmi recalls the horrified gasps that escaped her lips, and the lips of those around her, as the young figure pulled herself from the wreckage.

That had been two years ago. The young woman sitting at her table, sipping the mug of coffee, was always a sight for sore eyes. Arianna Ravyn, she had called herself. She had been released from the local med-care unit two planetary weeks after Shmi and the farmers rescued her, but while her wounds had all but healed, her memory seems to be completely lacking. During the first three planetary months, Arianna had only remembered her name, that her eyes were photo-sensitive, and that she was a fierce pilot.

"So, did you manage to uncover anything during your trip?"

Arianna's eyes blink mechanically as she looks up from her Caf, "Nothing useful, if that's what you mean. Is Ani at the shop?" Shmi nods, smiling softly as the dark-haired woman drains the last of her drink before standing upright, "I'm going to drop in for a visit. Would rather not have to deal with the outcome if I don't see him right away."

Shmi lets out a small laugh, nodding her head. If there is one thing Shmi is thankful for, it is that her son has someone strong and independant as a role model. She had been surprised when Anakin and Arianna formed a bond unlike anything ever seen. The young woman had become a member of their small family, and the very thought forces Shmi to blink back her warm heart-felt tears. She wishes she could help Arianna uncover her forgotten past.

"Okay, dear. Try to keep out of trouble. Make sure you are here for dinner tonight."

Arianna smirks, realizing that Shmi did not make it a suggestion, "I'd be happy to join you guys for dinner. I'll be sure to walk Ani home. Did you need me to pick anything up on the way back?"

Seeing Shmi shake her head, the ebony-haired girl gives her a mocking salute before pulling her goggles down over her eyes and lifting her grey hood over her head. Slipping out of the house unit and into the dry desert heat. Weaving through the crowd, Arianna's thoughts deepen as she thinks over the past two years. Sometimes, she hears things during her sleep, phantom conversations. She has already admitted to herself, though she can't remember where she came from, or who she was _before_ her accident, she enjoys the life she has made for herself.

"I said clean up this _kriffin_ mess, boy!"

Arianna's small smile fades, the muscle along her jaw tense as she clenches her teeth. Okay, so maybe there are parts that she could do without. Like the slavery business. Although, with the amount of credits she's earned up, the Skywalker family won't be slaves for much longer.

"Welcome to-" the blue-skinned Toydarian pauses in his greeting at the familiar sight of the grey-hooded figure entering his shop, "Oh...it's just you. Whaddaya want?"

"I'm afraid I'm not in need of any parts," Arianna replies, dropping her hood, "You know I would only ever come _here_ if I need anything fixed on my vessel. As it is, I was looking for Anakin."

"He's in the back, cleaning up that mess of scrap metal-"

Not bothering with listening to Watto run at the mouth, Arianna bows her head respectfully before slipping into the back room. A small smile tugs at her slightly chapped lips as her gaze settles on the dusty-blonde haired boy scrubbing away at the various parts placed on display. She never really understood why she came to care for the boy; she doesn't have much patience for children in general.

"You got some dirt on your face, boy," Arianna remarks harshly, mocking Watto's tone of voice.

She can't help but giggle as the boy leaps to his feet, eyes wide and lips parting as if to argue, only to fall short all together. Seeing her dear friend's bright blue eyes widen and gleam with joy, Arianna barely catches her balance as the tan-clad blur barrels into her. As small arms wrap around her waist, she giggles, ruffling the boy's hair.

"Ari! When did you get back?"

Smiling at the natural exuberance, "Just this afternoon. I dropped by to say hello to your mother and I figured I'd come see you, as well."

For the remainder of Anakin's work shift, Arianna listens as the boy talks about his activities since her last visit. Who knew that a boy, barely nine years of age, could built and piece together a fully-functioning protocol droid; for Shmi's sake rather his own. Or work on and build a pod-racer; which Watto would never allow the boy to pilot.

"There's supposed to be a pod-race a month from now. Are you gonna be able to make it?"

Arianna shrugs as she leads Anakin through the marketplace, "I will do my best to, but I make no promises I can't keep. Are you going to be racing?"

"I want to, I know I can win, but Watto won't let me, and Mom is terrified I'd end up in an accident of some kind," Anakin huffs, scuffing his shoe along the dusty ground as they walk, not at all bothered by his psuedo-sister hidden beneath the hood once more, "I just wish there was some way to make enough money to save Mom."

Arianna ruffles his hair, offering him a sympathetic grin, "Hey, if you end up being put in any of the upcoming pod-races, I'll be sure to place a bet in your favor."

"But Sabulba always wins."

Arianna giggles, "Exactly. So many people would be placing bets on Sabulba, that in the chance of you winning, the person that bets on you would win a lot more money than if the person bet on Sabulba since all of the bets would be split up among the people that bet on him. So, I place the minimum amount on you, in the chance that you win the race, I'd earn all of the bets against you, which would then be split up on any person that placed a bet on you as well."

"No one bets on me," Anakin points out.

"My point," Arianna retorts, nudging his shoulder playfully as they both catch sight of the Skywalker house, "Come on, Ani. Let's see what your mother is cooking."

Anakin lets out a childish giggle before breaking into a sprint, his tiny legs pushing him quick and effortlessly. Arianna mentally counts down before breaking into a sprint of her own, the duo weaving and dashing around merchant dealers. While Anakin is almost ten years younger than she is, Arianna's maturity level drops a few degrees as the pair continue their attempts at sabotaging the other's potential win. Despite Anakin winning, the cloaked woman can't stop the grin from forming.

Yeah. She may not remember much, but she was lucky to have found the Skywalker family.

_"Lucky? Ari, please give me an example of one time we've actually been lucky, on any account."_

_"What about that time on Dra-"_

_"Orino was shot, you suffered second degree burns and our vessel had irreversable damage."_

_"Okay, what about the time we were on Volte-"_

_"I was kidnapped, held hostage and Orino nearly got busted for hacking into the treasury."_

_"Alright, alright, so...we don't have luck."_

_"Damn right we don't."_

_"Well, there is a bright side to all of this."_

_"A bright side? A bright side? Tell me, Ari. How is __**this**__ a bright side?" A pause, "Orino! How many are on our tail?"_

_"We have three engaged, Nyx. Ari, can you shake them off?"_

_A soft, airy laugh sounds, "Oh, I think I have the ability to do such a thing."_

_**Concentration. Determination. Triumph. **_

_"Nyx, we're in the clear."_

_**Relief.**_

_"Good. Now, tell me what bright side there is to all of this?"_

_"Well, if we are lacking any type of luck, it can be assumed that we aren't hindered by __**bad**__ luck, either."_

_**Smack.**__ "Oh my Stars, you are annoying!"_

_**Amusement. Adoration.**_

"Ari!"

Blinking, Arianna shakes her head, realizing she had come to a complete stop just a few steps away from the door to the Skywalker house, "Oh, sorry about that Ani. I kind of got lost in thought."

Brushing away the phantom voices, Arianna follows Anakin into the house. No. Even if the phantom voices were distant memories, she has a family now. A family that has taken care of her. A family that has asked for nothing in return.

A family she's willing to do anything for.

* * *

"Be careful, Ari. You know I worry about you when you head out for the night."

The petite, ebony-haired seventeen-year-old glances up from securing her vibroblade along the inside of her left boot. Standing upright, Arianna smooths out her pant legs, the synthetic material sleek and clinging to the gentle curves along her thighs and hips. She ignores the maternal eye-sweep along her bare torso as she begins to weave her hair into a thick braid, leaving it to hang over her shoulder. Running her fingers through the messy, fringed bangs hanging over her eyes, she offers Shmi a small smirk.

"You should cover up," Shmi comments, uncomfortable with the petite swells and curves placed on display for all to see.

"I have to play the part if I'm going to get anything from these types of people. Besides, _this_," Arianna gestures to her bare torso, "is actually conservative for these people."

Shmi nods curtly, despite the frown on her lips. Arianna belts the holster for her blaster around her waist, letting the belt hang loose on her hips. Arianna knows, even with her teenage body, she is still considered smaller than most women, her build of lean muscle aimed more to endurance and flexibility than strength. Shmi shakes her head, shoving down the inner musings as Arianna double-checks her blaster, making sure it isn't going to over-heat anytime soon. _This_ side of Arianna is the side Shmi bars Anakin from seeing; the merchant and mercenary. The only thing Shmi is thankful for is Arianna's stubborn ideals against working as an assassin, or bounty hunter of any kind.

"Alright, I'm heading out. Try not to worry too much," Arianna says, understanding that Shmi has a habit of worrying about her safety.

Pulling on her grey cloak, Arianna opts to keep the hood down as she slips into the cool, desert night. Drifting through the market square of Mos Espa, her gaze holds steady and hardens with each step she takes away from the Skywalker house. She never understood how she is capable of pushing away the outside world. She's never figured out why she finds it easy to let go of 'Ari' -the family friend- and become 'Ravyn' -the mercenary-.

The feel-good, catchy music pulls her out of her thoughts as she calmly stalks into the cantina, her synthetic-clad hips swaying with each step she takes toward the bar. Earning the attention of the bartender, she places her order and flashes the two off-world merchants a small smirk and a curt nod. Taking her drink, her sharp gaze sweeps over the interior of the cantina, pausing only to give a brief nod to the pale-green Twi'lek moving sensually along the stage, her harmonized voice tinging the air with its haunting melody. As her gaze zeroes in on the dark, brown eyes peering at her from the darkened corner of the cantina, Arianna pushes away from the bar and makes her way toward the hidden figure.

"Hello, Ravyn."

Taking a seat in the empty chair across from the figure, she nods briefly, "Hello, Samier."

"I was hoping to see you tonight," the older, humanoid man states, "I have a shipment of product that needs to get to Coruscant. Do you think you can do that?"

Arianna leans back in her seat, "It depends. Not only is Coruscant a Core Planet, but it's also one of the heaviest in transport regs. What exactly am I transporting?"

"The product isn't anything you'll get in trouble with for carrying. It's mostly tech. The guy is an old friend of mine, runs a diner on Sub-Level 12. He's a good man, knows a lot about anything. You think you can do this as a favor?"

Arianna smirks, rubbing the pads of her fingers together in a gesture, "A favor that requires a certain price. My services aren't cheep. How long is this going to take?"

"It's going to be about five weeks. My friend likes to make sure his equipment is top-of-the-line and works correctly. You should at least take in the sights. You never know what you'll figure out."

Arianna takes a moment to sip her drink, collecting her thoughts before she bobs her head in a quick nod, "Alright. I'll do it. Send me a message with full details of the mission by tomorrow afternoon. I have other business to deal with tonight, so I will let you know when I head out."

Gracefully moving to her feet, she shakes Samier's slightly clammy hand before sauntering off toward the performance area. Her eyes quickly sweep around the area before recognizing a familiar face, her eyes softening briefly. Schooling her features, she swiftly moves toward table occupied by one, lonely man; completely focused on the Twi'lek performing. Dropping into the seat next to him, she props her boot-clad feet onto the top of the table, lacing her fingers behind her head as she leans back in her seat.

"How's it going, Lars?" she greets nonchalantly, cracking a small smirk as the man next to her jumps in his seat at the sudden awareness.

"Ravyn," he hisses, soft brown eyes affectionate, even as his gruff voice hisses at her with annoyance, "Ya' know I hate it when ya' do that. Shouldn't you be with Shmi and Anakin?"

"Aye," she retorts, mocking his off-world accent, "Just got in this afternoon. Came lookin' for my next job."

"Playing merchant dealer for these kinds of people is bad news, lass."

Cocking her head to the side, she gives a mocking gasp, "Is that worry I detect?" Hearing the scoff, she lets out a small huff of laughter, "Relax, Lars. I can handle myself. My next job is going to keep me off-planet for a little over a month. You think you can do me a favor?"

"What kind of favor would that be, lass? Ya' know I avoid gettin' mixed up with your lot."

Chuckling at the underhanded barb, Arianna shakes her head, "You know there's going to be a big pod-race coming up in a month," Catching the curt nod, she ignores the snort, "Well, I'm going to be off-world and I want you to place a bet for me."

"Regarding who, exactly?"

Arianna's eyes flash dangerously, "Why, Anakin Skywalker of course."

"How much?"

Removing the credit chip, stacked with Tatooine credits, she slides it over, "All of it. You comm me when the winnings are collected."

The gruff man lets out a sigh, slipping the credit chip into the inside folds of his light-weight jacket, "You better know what the hell yer doin' kid. Just...try not to get into trouble. I'd hate to have to give Shmi any bad news regarding ya."

Hearing the undertone of worry, Arianna stands from her seat, knocking back the last of her drink and lightly punching the man's shoulder, "Relax. I'm transporting legal goods. It's in the Core System. It will be an in-and-out job. What's the worst that can happen?"

"Seeing as though it's you?" the man trails off, cocking his head to the side to gaze at her, "I can expect the worst."

_"Face it, Ari. We could be on a freaking __**vacation**__ and we'd still end up getting in the middle of some crisis."_

Shaking away the phantom words, Arianna offers the man a smirk, "Keep faith, old man. I'll be talking to you later."

Smoothing out her opened cloak, her features grow stoic and expressionless as she leaves the cantina. Stepping outside, her hands find the pockets hidden within the folds of her cloak as she wanders aimlessly through the marketplace. Stepping outside the settlement limits, her legs fold underneath her, leaving her to sit on her heels. Looking up at the starry night sky, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight before they slide shut.

_"We're not leaving you!"_

_**Irritation. Worry. Determination.**_

_"This is __**my**__ mission! This is __**my**__ ship! What __**I**__ say, goes! Now get your asses to the escape pods, __**now!**__ Or I'll put you both in there myself!"_

_**Desperation. Concern.**_

_"Fine! But if we don't hear from you, __**I'll**__ come after you myself, and you __**won't**__ like it."_

_"As long as you and Orino are alive, I'll take what I can get. Please, Nyx. Go."_

_**Relaxation. Determination. Heat. Awareness. Pain. Weariness.**_

_**Acceptance.**_

_"Oh my Stars. Do you think she's okay?"_

_"Let's get her to the med center."_

_"Are there any others?"_

_"We'll stay here and see if there are any other survivors. Shmi, go with her to the med center. If you are caught this far out, you will end up killed."_

She has people out there.

Arianna's eyes slide open, turning toward the shimmering sky once more. She has...friends.

Somewhere.

And having that knowledge causes her heart to soften and eyes to water.

* * *

**Author's Note: That's the first chapter. I just wanted everyone to get an idea of Arianna's personality. I promise, she isn't perfect, nor a Mary-Sue. She _does_ get into a lot of trouble and tends to leap-before-thinking, and reacting out of instinct.**

**Chapter Title: 'Feeling Good' by Muse.**

**Next Chapter: 'Curses'**


	2. Curses

_**Butterflies and Hurricanes**_

**Summary:**

If you were to inquire information on the curious young woman, Arianna Ravyn, people would tell you everything they know:

She's a young, seventeen-year-old woman (as most come-to-age by the age of fifteen) _free_ merchant dealer.

She's vibrant, bright-eyed and full of life; always grinning and teasing where she sees fit.

She's a personal friend of the Skywalker Family; often keeping a protective eye out for trouble that usually follows the young Anakin Skywalker.

_She_ would tell you that all of these are lies.

Except for being a friend to the Skywalker's.

Her greatest secrets, even the ones she can't remember, are worse than she first believed. Her lost past becomes unraveled as she gets pulled into saving the peaceful planet of Naboo.

**Author's Note:**

This story contains an OC's; Arianna Ravyn (pronounced Ar-ee-ah-nah Rah-vin), Kai-Lyn Nyx, and Slaine Orino. Story title is taken from Muse's 'Butterflies and Hurricanes', a favorite band and song of mine. All of the chapters will be titled by a song that fits the chapter well. This will probably build into an Obi-Wan/OC (Arianna) story.

* * *

**Chapter Two**  
_Curses_

_'We've waited far to long to, watch it all crash and fall through,  
So when you feel like shit you gotta keep on pushing,  
If you saw the world through my eyes, then you wouldn't feel so high rise,  
Its time to take our chance you gotta sit back and hold tight.'  
_

* * *

_"Something on your mind, Orino?"_

_**A sigh. **"Do you ever think there can be a time where we didn't have to do what we do?"_

**_Contemplation. _**_"I suppose sometimes, I wonder, but when I **really** think about it..."_

_"When you really think about it?"_

_"When I really think about it, I wonder if there is really anyone else capable of doing what we do. Sometimes, bending the rules and dancing along the line of right and wrong...sometimes that is needed. We may not be the most innocent people in the world, but sometimes, people like us, are needed to get the jobs done that others can't do."_

_"Is there ever a line you think we won't cross?"_

_"Of course there are lines that even **we** wouldn't cross. I would never take the life of an innocent. I would never bring harm to civilians. I protect those that can't protect themselves. There is a **very** fine line between right and wrong. So what if I steal, or lie, or cheat my way out of a situation? As long as the end justifies the means, why does it matter **how** we do it?"_

_"You really think that? How do we stop ourselves from going over the edge?"_

_"If you are about to do something, and every part of you is screaming at you to stop and the very pit of your stomach churns at the idea...trust in that. If you can't trust your thoughts, or your heart, trust your deeper instincts."_

* * *

A single figure cloaked and hooded in grey cloth stalks dangerously through the crowded interior. Patrons of various origins cheer and cry out, mixing with the stench of sweet, blood and other bodily fluids Arianna would rather not think about. Spying the ongoing fight within the large cage, her gaze travels over every customer and worker before locating a group of four sitting in a corner table; the table stacked with empty glasses. Sneering under her hood at the sight of arrogant smirks adorning their faces, Arianna heads toward the red-skinned announcer running the fights, signaling for his attention.

"What can I do for you?"

She points at the group of four, "I want them, all four."

"You sure about that?"

"Just do your damn job and mind your business."

Shoving a credit chip in the palm of his large hand, she stalks off toward the darkest corner, closest to the cage. As the current fight comes to an end, the announcer calls forth the four men. As the four cocky men make their way to the cage, she watches under her hood, taking each of them into account. One stood pretty close to seven-feet, broad muscles and practically oozing masculinity; their strength. The second and third, both of average, humanoid height and body build; henchmen, extra weight to throw around by the looks of it. The fourth man; he's the brains behind everything, and she was going to bring all of it to a halt.

"And our challenger?"

Pushing her way toward the cage, she steps into the cage, "I challenged the four of you."

"Oh? And do we get to _see_ our challenger's face?"

Arianna smirks beneath the hood before reaching up to her throat, unfastening the clasp keeping the cloak closed. Slipping it off, she pays no mind to the sudden spike of confidence in the four men as she carefully tosses her cloak up, allowing it to hang over the top of the cage. Finding the pockets inside the folds of her cloak, she removes her finger-less gloves; made of the same dark-green synthetic material as her 'mercenary' outfit. Tugging them on her hands, she wiggles her fingers before fastening the gloves at her wrists. Turning toward the four men, she rolls her shoulders and shakes loose her arms.

As the signal sounds for the fight to start, her posture remains loose as the two henchmen rush at her, the larger man staying back to keep the fourth protected. Just as she figured. Catching a well-aimed punch in the palm of her hand, she ducks to avoid the other, twisting to step back into the man's instep. Bringing her elbow back, she catches the middle of his torso and as the air leaves his lungs, she heaves him over her shoulder. Slamming his back to the floor of the cage, his fist still gripped tightly in her hand, her leg snaps out, connecting with his elbow. Sickening groans and cheers mix with the agonizing screams.

Leaving him crooning on the floor, she ducks instinctively, twisting back and out of the way of the barrage of attacks thrown at her from the second henchman. A wayward punch hits her shoulder, the subtle sting quickly ignored as she snaps a kick toward his head. Seeing the man stumble back to avoid the kick, Arianna drops to the ground, her other leg sweeping across the floor in a follow-through. Not wanting to waste energy on a peon, Arianna's fingers quickly jab at various pressure points, her stoic gaze watching as the man remains still on the floor; his eyes gazing up at her in fear.

Standing up, she barely manages to avoid the large fist aimed at her head, only to grunt as the secondary hits solidly against her torso. Biting down on the inside of her cheek, she curses inwardly at the inaudible crack along her rib cage. Focusing on the large man, she knows he's going to take time. Taking him down in small increments. Inhaling deeply, Arianna takes the moment to center herself before joining in a dance of bobbing, weaving, twisting and flipping as she avoids his strikes; her eyes never leaving him as she searches for a weakness. It takes several minutes, the occasional strike managing to hit her, but in a single instance, she spies the weakness. Aiming for pressure points and sensitive areas, her quick jabs brings the large man to his knee, followed with a quick snap-kick to the back of the head.

With the third man down for the count, Arianna doesn't hesitate to lunge at the mastermind behind the group of arrogant men. Her various punches push him back against the cage wall, her hand gripping his throat as her opposing arm cocks back.

"Why?" the man croaks out. "Why you go after us?"

Arianna's unique eyes brighten with fury, "You and your _friends_ are the ones bullying business owners along Sub-Level 12 into giving you a large fraction of their profits. Do you know, where I'm from, that people like you end up getting people a lot worse than _me_ going after them?"

"JEDI!"

Sighing inwardly, Arianna slams her knuckles against the side of his head as the place explodes with fear and worry. Checking all of their pockets; though only the mastermind carried any credit chips, she slips her findings into her pockets. Ignoring the pulling, burning pain along her left side, Arianna races toward the cage wall, running up the length of it before her pulling herself to sit along the top of it. Making sure to grab her cloak, she drops down to the floor, slips into her cloak, pulls up her hood before disappearing among the crowd. Pausing to collect her winnings from the hidden (or not-so hidden) ring-leader, she swiftly leaves the building.

Never realizing a pair of teal-colored eyes watching her every move.

* * *

"I can't thank you enough, Ravyn."

Arianna smiles weakly as she finishes applying the bacta-cooling ointment along her injured side, her unique gaze flicking up toward the snow-haired elderly woman. Seeing the fading bruise along the side of the older woman's cheek, the raven-haired mercenary feels her jawline tick with a flush of anger. Why those four arrogant pricks attacked this woman is unknown to her. She never understood a person's desires for needless violence.

"You don't even know me, or the-"

Arianna raises a hand, silencing the older woman with a gentle wave, "Please, Matron. You and the children you watch after didn't deserve to be stolen from, nor anyone else they targeted. I may be a bit rough around the edges, but even I wouldn't steal from an orphanage."

The matron of the orphanage shakes her head, most likely at Arianna's self-incriminating words, and places a stack of folded clothing, "Here, child. Change out of those clothes of yours. If you were seen, you may not be able to make it back off planet if you are recognized." Arianna nods her head, startled when the older woman extends a hypo-injector, "Make sure you take this right before you leave. It will stain your eyes brown long enough to pass through regulations There are two doses. Use them well."

"Thank you, Matron."

"No, child. Thank _you_. The children would have suffered through hunger pains."

Arianna says nothing as she stands from the bed. Slipping out of her mercenary clothes, she pulls on the soft, linen tunic shirt and the dark-brown linen pants. Tossing her clothes into the spare bag given to her, she steps out of the spare room and makes her way downstairs. Smiling softly at the children seated around the various tables, Arianna bows her head respectfully to the Matron before disappearing through the front door.

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi is known for being observant, his blue-green eyes quickly taking in every detail to the fullest. His Jedi Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, has taught him much since the beginning of Obi-Wan's apprenticeship. Qui-Gon had sent him out to gather information on the female contender from the illegal fighting ring while the Jedi Master remained behind with several eye-witnesses. No one seems to know anything about the woman; though Obi-Wan wonders how it is possible for a person can forget such unique eyes in the first place.

"Something to eat, love?" the droid waitress greets as Obi-Wan looks up from the menu.

Placing his order, Obi-Wan asks the droid about the owner of the diner, to which the droid calls out for someone named 'Dex'. The sight of the four-armed, four-eyed blue alien stepping out of the kitchen, Obi-Wan straightens in his seat as the creature slides into the seat across from him.

"The name's Dex. What can I do for a Jedi?"

Obi-Wan offers a small smile, realizing this alien wasn't the type to dance around the subject, "I'm in the process of looking for someone. Yesterday evening, my Master and I uncovered an illegal fighting ring, and one of the contenders managed to evade arrest. From her description, people have stated that she has been seen visiting this diner on a frequent basis."

Dex hums thoughtfully, stroking his chin briefly before snapping his fingers, "Ah, I know. Tiny little human. Black hair pulled into a braid. Pretty peculiar eyes, purple with a bit of shine to them," Obi-Wan feels his eyes widen upon the familiar details, "Has a pretty nasty scar along her back."

"You know her?"

"I know enough," Dex replies, smiling softly, "Ravyn is an off-world mercenary and merchant trader. Came here while transferring some upgraded tech from a mutual acquaintance of mine. Decided to take to the sights of Coruscant and a couple nights ago, she came across an elderly woman nursing a few bumps and bruises." Obi-Wan wonders at the hardening tone in the alien's voice, "Ravyn helped the woman back to her homestead, only to learn that she was in fact the matron-head of a local orphanage and that four men had stolen her monthly allowance from the Coruscant Treasury Department that was meant to stock up the food stores for the children."

"So, this...Ravyn went looking for the men?" Obi-Wan guesses.

"She did more than go looking for them," Dex comments, chuckling dryly, "Ravyn was originally just going to donate the amount taken from the orphanage, but when she learned that the four men had stolen money from other charity cases, and local business that are already struggling to keep afloat. See, Ravyn hails from a rough planet; many of the residents are either slave-workers or mercenaries. She said stealing is a hefty crime where she hails from and the more people these four men stole from, the more righteous she became. Last night, she tracked them through Sub-Level 12 and I haven't seen her since."

"So, she wasn't fighting to gain money. She was exacting her own sense of justice," Obi-Wan muses out loud, "Why did she not report it to the authorities?"

"Well, that's why she became so angry," Dex points out, "These people _have_ reported it. Ravyn did some digging around and learned that the man leading the four happens to be the only son of the Senator and was handing payouts to keep the authorities from pursuing them. So, going to the authorities wasn't going to do anything in the favor of the people they've stolen from, so Ravyn went after the men herself."

Obi-Wan frowns. So, things weren't as they originally seemed. Whoever Ravyn was, she carried her own set of rules and her own sense of justice. A small jingle sounds as the door to the diner opens, Obi-Wan's eyes immediately catching sight of the dark-haired human entering the diner. Dark-brown eyes sweep over the diner before spying Dex.

"Hiya, Dex," the cheerful greeting causes Dex to look up, the alien grinning at the woman. "Oh? Who is this?"

"How's it going, kid? Uh...I actually didn't get the Jedi's name."

Obi-Wan introduces himself with a bow of his head, the woman younger than himself in appearance offers him a bright smile, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Obi-Wan. I'm Anna. Hey, Dex, I was just coming to tell you that my shuttle leaves for Alderaan in a few hours. I just wanted to let you know."

"Alright. Enjoy your vacation, kid. Try to stay out of trouble, won't you?"

Anna giggles, "I can't help that trouble seems to find me attractive."

Sharing a laugh, Dex watches the young woman head out of the diner, shaking his head before turning back to Obi-Wan, "Sorry about that. That kid is quite adventurous. Loves to travel. Anyway, that's all I know on Ravyn. She's a bit hush-hush about personal information."

Obi-Wan stands up from the table, "Thank you. I will speak with my Master. While she may not have believed herself in the wrong, if Master Jinn wishes to pursue her, we will have to bring her into custody."

"Good luck with that. Ravyn is well-practiced at disappearing from what I've heard. Tends to blend with a crowd pretty well."

Obi-Wan nods, thanking Dex once again, before leaving the diner.

Little does Obi-Wan know, tracking down the elusive Ravyn will be put on hold when the Trade Federation places a blockade on the peaceful planet Naboo.

* * *

Tugging down her shaded-goggles, Arianna saunters down the ramp of her ship, the desert heat familiar and far more welcoming than the city-planet she had been on for the past few weeks. The pain of her injuries and the knowledge that the Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, knows of her association with Dex leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. Maybe she had been wrong going after those men. Maybe there was a better way to do it.

But instinct tells her that she doesn't know any other way.

Instinct tells her, whoever the person she might have been in the past...whoever she might have been had _not_ been known for doing things the _right way_.

The ends justifying the means.

Even if it feels like her very soul is cracking at the seams.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Big thank you to my reviews/followers. 'Curses' -Bullet For My Valentine. Please understand that the entire idea behind this chapter is that Arianna struggles with the idea of who she might have been, because she realizes that she, at some point, had been trained very well. She struggles with the idea that she was not a good person, even if she wants to be a good person for the Skywalker's.


End file.
